About Stinkyfinger:

I was raised in a small village in southern New Guinea; Southwest of Papua. I earned my living by milking reptiles and selling blood; not mine, of course. It was a simpler time back then. A man could walk ten miles without being assaulted by salesmen. Today, that is just a sweet, distant memory. "I don't want to buy a hat," I'd say. Of course, they don't take "no" for an answer. Eventually, they just bonk you on the head and take your money. You have to be crafty to get by today's salesmen. I had a hand-made Giraffe skin with mechanical components included. Nobody bothers a giraffe for money. They don't have any. One day, it fell over and broke. I had to climb out and sprint a hundred and fifty meters to the lizard milkery where I work. Unfortunately, salesmen are much too fast and I was forced to buy a hat. I still wear that hat to this day. I can't buy a hat when I already have one. It just doesn't make sense. To this day, that salesman tells stories in the local tavern about how he caught the last man in New Guinea that didn't have a hat.